literature

A Dark Woodland Tickle Story

Deviation Actions

dizzyfeathers's avatar
Published:
4.6K Views

Literature Text

The two dirty rats dragged the shackled beaver through the dark corridor towards the Arche of torment,  his body trembling in fear of the fate that awaited him… the cold abrasive stone floor grazed his rump, occasionally catching his matted brown fur in small cracks and nooks, making him shuffle uncomfortably from the pinch, the rats noticed this and in amusement suddenly came to a halt.
The taller rat knelt to face him and talked with a breath of dry rot…
"masters going to have some fun with you, and judging by your… sensitive nature" he reached out and ran a greasy claw down the beavers tummy, who choked back a laugh, lurching in response, "he will have you screaming mercy for hours". He cackled to with fatter friend who intervened with a heavy thickness to his voice "I hear he likes to surprise his victims first… do you like surprises Warflan?"
The beaver looked up through his silver fringe, his eyes where clear deep black and vaguely shimmered by the dim torch on the wall. It infuriated him that a rat dared to speak his name, but chose not to respond with a cheek, now they knew his weakness, so he just gulped back his anger and looked back down at the gritty floor.
They both bellowed with superior delight, snatching up the chains once more to drag him closer to his inevitably cruel torture. He felt warm tears of despair trickle past his wet nose as the sound of wild screams clashing with insane laughter became faintly audible.


Warflan had heard that sound before... a sickening extreme between suffering and laughing… enough to send shivers down the spine of any beaver…
The art of tickling or "touch - talk" was a practice only a race as twisted as the rats could have used. Interrogators learned it was the best method to get someone to leak information about strategies and war plans, of course since tickling left no damage to the victim, it could be performed for as long as or whenever desired.
Despite the rats using it to obtain information from critters, they also used it just to bully and create fear. This was not the case with Warflan though, they wanted vengeance, and a rats vengeance is never satisfied.  


Listening to the loudening pleas for mercy, he looked up desperately at the rats, who sensed his despair, laughing harder they began to drag him faster towards a big glowing archway ahead. He started to yank at his chains and kick his feet in protest, something he would regret, as he now lost the privilege of being dragged.
The taller rat took the shackled arms and the other took the feet, together raising him and his defiant body off the ground, disabling him from his tantrums on the floor. He resulted in begging tears of mercy. "Please don't make me go… I am sorry, I didn't mean to do it…please…" his eyes streaming in horror as he passed through the arche of torment into a laboratory of torture.


Despite the shimmering bottles of fluorescent liquid that walled the room, His eyes froze in focus on a dark silhouette flickering against a clinical white curtain. What looked like a creature pinned to a table as another sadistically wriggled its fingers frantically in the air, its hands neared the tied victims' body.
"PLEASE I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE! IM SORRY!!!! PLEASE DON'T DO IT AGAIN! I CANT BREATHE!!!"
The victims' voice was dry and hoarse; croaky like it had been screaming for days, but again it was drowned out and replaced by the maniacal laughter of the experimenter, and the horrific laughing cries for mercy from the experiment…


Warflan paid to much attention to the dark silhouette to notice he was nearing his own stone slab, but he realised it too late, he was slammed down and bashed his head on the cold, stone base, and when he could make sense of the shaking room, he realised his limbs where being overpowered by more than two rats. His left arm was clamped into place by his head, as was the right, and his legs still trying to kick, where wrapped tightly into place.
"PLEASE!" the beaver cried once more "have mercy!"
The rats laughed and, began to run away, but one rat could not resist opportunity to grab a fluffy rib full of fur. He choked from the shock and bellowed a cry of laughter,
"PLEASE!!!"
Then a sinister cold grumble of disproval reverberated around the room,
The tickling stopped immediately and the rat had scurried off squeaking.


Warflan laid still, panting in recovery from the shock attack, apparenty slightly blind-sighted, before realising he was not alone in the room. A tall dark hooded figure blurred into view over Warflan, rattling a cold breath into the beavers tear drenched face. Somehow the light around the table had dimmed and the sound of other victims had drowned away…..Only the hooded figure and the beaver where apparent now. The withered decaying hand of an ancient rat emerged from within the cloak, tippling slowly towards the beavers silver flecked chest. fingers flexed and wriggling as he cheekily brushed the surface of the beavers upper body, Warflan tried to move but was practically immobile, he hated to give the satisfaction of laughing, but very few beavers had mastered there self control to such resist such an extreme method of torture. He bellowed a power high pitched squeal, snuffling through his teeth and scrunching his eyes, his skin protested to the slow tickling which just drove him insane. The rats bony fingers raked through the beavers fluffy exterior, teasing at his sensitive skin, Poking and prodding at his sides and tussling his stomach…
His only release was to laugh it off and try to absorb it, instead of resisting, which surely would give the rat more satisfaction.
He laughed and tried to relax, but his limbs still jolted in spasm.
Looking into the cloaks voided hood through squinting eyes… if only he could see this rat, he would know which of the three brothers was torturing him.


"Which of the three…" he thought as his body wrenched and writhed from the intense tickling which had now moved to under his arms… he snorted and even wretched on his own laughs as he lifted his back and smacked it against the stone surface continuously… he hoped the pain would dominate the tickling. It worked, but what he did not expect, was the surprise the rat guards must have spoken of.


A second cloaked figure suddenly emerged from a corner and forced Warflans silver-brown torso properly onto the stone platform, using a chain to buckle it firmly onto the slab…
"sorry I am late Getha," the second hissed at the first as he made the final adjustments to the chain. From the voice Warflan could immediately tell this was Jonon, the most psychotic of the three brothers.
"its fine, Sathlon is late too I see" Getha responded coldly, "its okay though…I am sure Warflan has plenty of fight in him yet, enough to last a good ten years"
The beavers eyes widened as each brother withdrew there hands from there cloaks and glided towards either side of the table.
"YEARS?" he exclaimed …but I my species don't even live that long!!!
Getha and Jonon burst into manic laughter…unsettling Warflan with there disturbed rat shrills of superiority…
"Pathetic beavers, your all the same…weak…afraid…STUPID!!!" Jonon yelled with a fiery gleam of vengeance in his eye.
"SHOVE A LOG IN IT!!!" Warflan retorted without regret.
Both rats closed in on the beaver, placing there four thin hands on his stomach…Getha closed in right to his face.
"You're the one making the noise" he whispered. And all of a sudden four frantic hands whizzed over every dip and flesh of his body…weaving around the ribs and teasing under his arms, scratching around his torso and kneading his belly…


He writhed and screamed a diverse mix of profanity, insult, threat and apology…
"Vengeance" Getha hissed as he twirled his fingers, pirouetting across the beavers' furry tummy.  The suffering laughter of a beaver was music to his ears.
"HA! What is this talk of vengeance brother?"  Jonon exclaimed with a raised eyebrow, he stopped for a moment and looked at Warflan in his weakened, struggling state, then breathed in and snidely said…"This is just practice".  


-/end of part one/-

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

LOL. If you liked it let me know! And I can write more!

And "DTM" you noez who you are, if you read this (which you will coz you're a curious bugger on a mission to kill all things to do with tickling) well, I warned you not to, so its your own fault if you think I am a freak! Or perhaps you liked it or thought it was funny ^ ^  whatever, ill start part 2 soon :D

thanks for reading it people :D
this is a story of vengeance. perhaps could be considered a darker alternative to traditional tickling stories.
i know a little out the box because its kinda woodland critters meets the dark age tickling^ ^

Unlike my art, i dont write for myself, where i enjoy writing i dont really enjoy it as much as art, so i wont continue this story unless you are interested in it ^ ^

whoever reads this ,thanks so much for making it to the end!
Comments19
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Stein-The-Stoner-Dog's avatar
That was some scary stuff, man! Years!? Those rats are insane, but they sure know how to successfully torture someone! Goddamn, tickling is effective!